


Goodnight Moon

by maebelles



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Gen, Goodnight Moon, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Miya Osamu is Soft for his brother, Miya Twins Week 2020, Overdose, Sibling Love, Vomiting, but a little brotherly love, but not really, came to me after i reread Goodnight Moon, either atsukita or osakita i'll leave it up to you, he knows Things, implied supernatural being kita, kind of?, make that a tag please, moon metaphors kinda, oh!, once again:, only pain, op feels bad for writing this, prompt: separation, wrote this like 2 months ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26738269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maebelles/pseuds/maebelles
Summary: ForMiya Twins Weekon Twitter! prompt: separation———Atsumu is the first to leave, but unable to live without the other, they always come back together.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Goodnight Moon

And it's crushing. Suffocating. His breath comes heavily and slow. He feels light, weightless. The ground has fallen out from under him and he floats. It's an almost pleasant buzz. Almost, because the panic starts to set in with eyes unfocused anywhere but on the smoke alarm on his ceiling and it's bright green light.  _ Badum badum, _ his heart races but somehow it feels achingly slow, fingers cold, numb, unable to feel anything besides the gentle air around him.

Everything is both too fast and too slow. He feels weightless but heavy, body abuzz with jitters that definitely don't stem from coffee. A high pitched squeal enters his ears and settles into the background of his mind, accompanying his body's buzz. His eyelids are heavy, he wants to close them. But not really, he doesn't. He wants to see, to see everything and anything but he's exhausted. He closes his eyes under the guise of a 'quick rest' but even he can't fool himself when it is so obvious what's wrong.

The air has a biting sting that is actually refreshing to his lungs. He inhales deeply, counting to 8 before exhaling for 12 and repeating the process. His teeth grind together harshly and he has to force his mouth open slightly, his body is beginning to feel more and more like dead weight but the grinding of his teeth hurts his jaw and worsens his growing migraine. He breathes, quietly, without sound. He takes in what noises of his room he can before his eyelids are too heavy to hold open.

His lungs burn again and his stomach is churning, bile rising but he can't find the energy to move. So he lays, curled into himself with his eyes closed and the cold air of his room engulfing him, he thinks he finally feels the stiffness of his mattress but he's unsure—still too fuzzy in the head to tell.

He doesn't know why, or maybe he does but doesn't want to admit it to himself, but he whispers a quiet goodnight to the fan whirring in his room, to the clothes scattered at the end of his bed, and to the shuffling of someone sleeping. To the socks on his feet and the feeling of the sun on his skin when he lays outside. He whispers goodnight to his cat, to his favorite jacket, and to the moon that watches over him as he sleeps. He whispers goodnight to the things he loves and the things he's never noticed before now because it just feels right. He whispers goodnight for the last time—both that night and forever—quietly, gently, as though he were speaking tenderly to a loved one, and it's something he wishes he'd done before, when his mouth wasn't afraid to move.

He's tired, he thinks. He feels heavy and thinks he's finally on his bed. It's quiet, save for the high pitched frequency ringing in his ears. But he knows it's too heavy to breathe, so he decides not to and whispers goodnight. It's a promise to the moon.

"G'night 'Samu."

He doesn't hear the moon speak back.

"G'night, 'Sumu."

***

His brother wakes. It's late and he's groggy but the smell of bile burns his nostrils and threatens his own stomach acid to rise. He gags but holds his breath and gets out of bed to check on his brother. His brother who isn't breathing, laying on his side and bile covering their floor. It's chunky but if he recalls, Atsumu has not eaten today so  _ what the fuck. _ He wakes their parents and the ambulance is called but Osamu knows.

He thought he'd imagined it but called back anyway. He'd laid in his bed, wondered if he shouldn't have said what he said. But it was true. He knew he didn't belong on the court for the rest of his life. He wanted something else, something more.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt.

So laying in bed he listens to the gentle whirring of their fan, the faint sound of their parents' tv playing a show, and his brother's heavy breathing. And for some reason he felt lost, lonely. He was losing something but  _ how? What is it? _ He falls asleep to his brother's quiet voice whispering the gentlest of what sounds like a goodbye. Osamu responds, but he knows he wouldn't have been able to stop it either way. It was too late.

But that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

Osamu cries when they pronounce his brother dead. His parents weep loudly and unforgiving. But Osamu is sure he's just lost an entire war he didn't realize he was fighting.

Osamu is lonely without his brother. Achingly, painfully lonely. But on nights when it gets too bad to carry, he whispers goodnight to the things he loves and the things he's never noticed before. He doesn't know why he does it or why it makes him feel like Atsumu's still there. But he'll take what he can get.

He knows when he whispers goodnight to someone who's no longer there, despite the quiet there is always a whisper back.

"I miss you. G'night, 'Sumu."

He knows it's the moon.

"Night, 'Samu."

***

The funeral is quiet. There are people who cry and people who hide behind an empty face. But everyone feels lost. The Inarizaki volleyball team sits together, and mourn the loss of a pair of idiots they loved. They mourn the loss of their friends and significant others.

Both brothers are buried together. But their souls stand further away. Near the edge of the lake, Atsumu is already thigh deep when he calls out to Osamu. Osamu nods, he can't look back just yet. Atsumu reaches out for his hand and they don't let go this time. Waist deep in water, both twins look back at their friends, family, and others. Kita watches them, teary eyed and knowing; the twins whisper goodnight and disappear into the water which ripples after them. Kita cries the hardest.

**Author's Note:**

> come visit me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/smtsukki) <33


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